flut·ter·in no·more

people so passionate,
their hearts thrumming against their chests
as new ideas play their flutes
and the visions of their imagined golden outcomes
lift their feet to the skies.
gleam in their eyes
and words fall from their mouths so easily: the earth is their pillow.
they need not fear the world because the world fears them.
while i,
on the other end,
put my head on my knees and cry by the unknowing river
because the butterfly i had once sheltered in the cave of my stomach
has died of dark and doesn’t flutter.


24 thoughts on “flut·ter·in no·more

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